Leader Slave
by Seiberwing
Summary: Megatron takes up a new Mini-Con and forges a very unhappy partnership.


**Leader Slave**

"These are our newest acquisitions, sir, all in perfect condition. Just take your pick."

Dustdive kept a watchful eye on his charges as he presented them to Megatron, making sure none of the braver ones tried to sneak around his legs and disappear into the ventilation ducts. Highbeam, a mostly-red neutral with a mildly poignant face, stood off to the side, his minicon Barrack seated comfortably on his shoulder.

Megatron put his hand on his chin, looking at the minicons with the critical eye of a collector as they either cowered before his shadow or stood up straight and tried to look defiant even as the fearful glow in their tiny optics betrayed their true emotions.

His last encounter with the Autobots had gone a great deal worse then usual. Somehow his foes had managed to recruit someone with a spoonful of sense, because rather then attempting to take out the enormous Decepticon twice his size, the Autobot had blown his minicon Cy-Kill into scrap metal and reduced Megatron's power by half. It was one of the more embarrassing moments of his military career.

So now he needed a replacement.

Megatron's gaze roamed over the minicons, mentally checking them off his list or moving them to the "Possible" category. He immediately scorned the groups of three that pressed close to each other. Breaking up a minicon triad always resulted in disaster, as it was extremely difficult for one to operate at his maximum ability without the others. That purple one in the back would compliment his paint job, although the bulky green one certainly looked powerful. The thin one with the wings was probably a weakling, better to leave him for someone else. What about that white and grey one?

Megatron pointed. "You. Come forward."

The minicon looked left and right, hoping desperately that the Bulk commander meant someone else. But no, he was the chosen one. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the group as some of the others beeped concernedly or grabbed at his arms. Megatron was pleased to see that the minicon had the courage to look him right in the face, although he shook as he did it.

It made a series of nervous beeps, and Megatron looked questioningly at Highbeam. Highbeam looked in turn at the minicon sitting on his shoulder and beeped at him.

Highbeam had, through time and a surprisingly trusting relationship with his minicon, managed to teach Barrack to speak Common Cybertronian while learning the minicon dialect from his partner. They now hired themselves out as translators to the various factions, and Megatron had purchased their services. One of the few things that worked in the minicons' favor was the fact that their language, an adaptation of an ancient Cybertronian dialect spoken only by a few scholars, was almost completely incomprehensible. If they weren't able to speak freely without fear of being understood, they were a good deal less likely to plot a rebellion.

"He says his name is Leader-1, and he is the head of village B-12," Barrack said, also looking Megatron in the face. Many of the Decepticons disliked the neutral's minicon, not only because his bilingual abilities made him seem just that much more like a regular mech, but also because he backed his speeches up with a boldness that made even some of the Decepticons look cowardly. Highbeam refused to corral this behavior, leading to the malicious spreading of certain rumors that Highbeam's relationship with his minicon was a bit more then what was professionally acceptable. Megatron ignored the rumors because of how useful they were, and how little he wanted to think about what it would mean if the rumors were true.

"Leader-1." Megatron tasted the name, seeing how well it fit with his own. In a slightly disturbing way, it reminded him of his ancient nemesis, Optimus Prime. The chief commander, the number one leader.

Perfect.

"I've made my decision." Megatron bent over and snatched Leader-1 up, brushing away the other minicons who tried desperately to yank their comrade back down. Dustdive herded the other minicons back into the storage facility as Megatron walked out, Leader-1 struggling in his grasp.

Megatron's minicon. Quite a lofty position, he should feel honored,> beeped Barrack as his partner also left for their temporary quarters. They were currently being stuffed into a decrepit storage room with a berth that appeared to be salvaged from a scrapyard situated inside a dumpster, but it was better than bedding down with the actual Decepticon troops.

Jealous is you?> asked his partner sarcastically. Highbeam was an able student, but he still had problems with his sentence structure.

Barrack corrected the larger mech's grammar before replying, Heck no. You think I want anything to do with that maniac? Leader-1'll be lucky if he gets past the first week without going into stasis lock from being drained.>

True. To go want some energon?>

Barrack shrugged, deciding to put the language lessons off until later. Sure.>

88888

For Leader-1, improper placement of verbs was the least of his problems. He had stopped struggling, as every jerk of his limbs meant that Megatron's fist got just a tiny bit tighter. Now the minicon just kept his optics offline and lay still, trying to move as little as possible and block out the world.

It took the minicon a few seconds to realize that Megatron had stopped walking. Leader-1 cautiously raised his head and activated his optics. He could see a gigantic throne resting on the ceiling in the middle of a grand room, with carvings and metal wall hangings. No, on the ground; he was the one that was upside down. Megatron sat down, gently placing Leader-1 on the arm of his throne. Leader-1 uncurled slowly and got to his feet. Megatron tilted his head, just looking at his new minicon for a few moments.

Leader-1 wasn't horribly aesthetic, but he wasn't ugly either. The minicon had a layered faceplate instead of a mouth; that was probably a good thing. Megatron was quite skilled at putting on whatever face he needed regardless of emotion; he wanted his minicon to do the same. Cy-Kill had had a tendency to interfere with his conversations either through beeping or body language. Leader-1 would hopefully have more sense.

Now, to examine his vehicle mode.

"Transform," Megatron commanded.

Leader-1 backed away, still showing a faint bit of resistance. Megatron slammed his fist down right before the minicon's face. "I gave you an order, Leader-1."

Without waiting to see if his order would be followed, Megatron grabbed his new tool and started to transform him manually, shoving Leader-1's legs up to his chest and pushing his arms in ways they really weren't supposed to move. Leader-1 cried out and transformed the rest of the way on his own.

Megatron studied his minicon's alt-mode, impressed in spite of himself. A mobile cannon who probably had a decent amount of firepower, for a minicon. He turned Leader-1 over, running his fingers along his turrets and over his wheels.

"I think I made quite a nice choice, don't you?" he asked. The answer was a series of angry beeps accompanied by squirming and frantically spinning wheels.

"Ah, you're quite eager. Well then, I won't keep you waiting." Megatron extended his arm, then slammed Leader-1 down onto his powerlink port.

Leader-1 felt the power being ripped out of him, flowing into Megatron and leaving him so weak that he could neither move nor scream. He had heard from the more experienced minicons that forced powerlinking hurt, but he hadn't been prepared for the agonizing burning that began with his powerlink port and spread throughout his entire body.

But despite the searing pain, there was a strange sort of intimacy between the Decepticon and the minicon. He was inside Megatron. Megatron was inside him—_and Megatron was scared_. Something about having to be so close to any other being, no matter how insignificant, unnerved him. The fearfulness was there only for a scant second before Megatron managed to hide it beneath feelings of strength and power, but it was enough to give Leader-1 just the slightest bit of reassurance.

Megatron was afraid of his own possession, of one of the smallest of Cybertron's inhabitants. And Leader-1 knew it, and in that small pocket of time he was the one with the control, not Megatron. Scant condolences, but it was something to hold onto in the face of the agony assailing his systems. Few people could claim that they'd given Megatron the chills by doing nothing more then bending to the tyrant's will.

Leader-1 felt Megatron's body jerk backwards, followed by the sound of an explosion as the powered-up blast from Megatron's hip cannon ripped through the wall on the other side of the room. The wave of smug satisfaction that followed was, to Leader-1, just as loud and terrifying.

Then it was over and Leader-1 felt Megatron's hand around him, pulling him off. The minicon transformed and lay limp in Megatron's hands. He looked up at the Decepticon with weary optics that held just the barest bit of defiance.

Megatron petted the side of his minicon's head with a fingertip. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Certainly Cy-Kill did. Who knows, you might even grow to enjoy being my minicon." He couldn't use the term 'partner'. That might insinuate that they were equals in some fashion.

Leader-1 trembled, not sure to be more afraid of his words or his touch. The fleck of hatred and rebelliousness was still there, but Megatron was too wrapped up in his own feelings of superiority to notice. "There's really no fighting it. You're mine now." He patted the drained minicon once more before laying him down on the arm of his throne like an old worn out rag doll.


End file.
